Fall for Me
by hurleycat
Summary: Dan's parents died, leaving him with nothing but two younger siblings to take care of. He starts his freshman year at college broke, balancing two jobs and classes, and with the world on his shoulders. Phil's parents died and left him with a fourtune; but his abusive boyfriend, Brett, won't let him touch any of it. Trying to simply survive, he's surprised when he stumbles upon Dan.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Fall for Me

Part: One

Word Count: 2,312

Warnings: Domestic violence

Disclaimer: nope.

.~.

"Wake up!" Dan abruptly pulled back the curtains on the window and clapped his hands. He pushed his hair out of his eyes, watching impatiently as his brother, Darren, started to rise up on his arm to look down from his bunk bed. "Come on! You're going to be late for school!"

"I don't care," Darren grumbled.

Their sister, Morgan, was already stumbling out of the bottom bunk though. She rubbed her eyes. "Do we have to go?" she asked tiredly.

"Yes," Dan responded. He was starting to get a little impatient. If they didn't get up soon, not only would they be late for school, but he'd miss the start of his first class of the morning. "I know it's scary to go to a new school, but you really need to go now so I can get to my classes on time."

Darren groaned. "Don't guilt us into it," he mumbled but still started to climb down the ladder from his bed. He stumbled into the closet they all shared and grabbed a random shirt from the hanger.

"That's mine," Dan snapped, but he was too aggravated already to bicker about it. "Just don't get any stains on it, okay?"

Darren was already pulling on the shirt and gave no response. At twelve years old, he loved to test his boundaries with how much he could piss off Dan, who'd been acting as his guardian for the past six months—but they'd all be learning that Dan the Guardian's temper was shorter than Dan the Brother's.

They'd all showered the night before, so Dan instructed his siblings to go brush their teeth and hair, and he started to pick out Morgan's outfit as she was eight and hadn't quite figured out how to make things match. He pulled down a pink blouse and started to reach for a pair of jeans stacked above the shirts when he realized a hole was forming at the bottom of the shirt. Sighing, he wondered if he could budget some back-to-school shopping. Probably not.

He was already ready for the day, so he walked out of the room and into the kitchen.

The apartment was student housing—normally for upperclassmen, but Dan couldn't have his siblings in the freshmen dorms—so the kitchen was pretty full at the moment. Jet, who had the bedroom next to him, was making a big pot of coffee while talking to their other housemate, Jenna, about if they needed anything from the grocery store.

"Could you grab some juice boxes for Morgan while you're there?" Dan asked him as he reached into the cabinet to grab his siblings' cereal. "I'll pay you back on Friday, pay day."

"Sure," Jet said. He poured himself a mug of coffee. "Want some?"

"Lord yes," Dan responded, pouring some coffee for himself. "I'm not getting home till late so can you remind Darren to make dinner for Morgan if you're around?"

Jenna gave him a sympathetic smile as she pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge. "I'll make them dinner, Dan," she said. "It is their first day of the school year."

"You are literally the best," Dan said and pecked her on the cheek. He rushed back into the bedroom just as his siblings were getting back. He tossed Morgan her clothes. "Get dressed or we're gonna be late."

After barely making the city bus on time, Dan was able to get his siblings to the school. After registering them and sending them off to their respective classrooms, he rushed back to campus and made it to his history class only seven minutes late. His professor shot him a dirty look as he walked in, but he was pretty proud of his time.

He survived the class then rushed to his shift at the diner two blocks from campus.

.~.

Phil stared at the computer screen, grimacing, and realized that he was chewing on his thumbnail again. Quickly whipping his thumb from his mouth, he wondered if there was a way he could afford paying someone to edit the essay he'd spent so long staring at. He knew he had terrible grammar and most of the sentences were jumbled.

Maybe he could ask Brett to look over it when he got home. Phil's grimace grew at the thought; he'd have to see what kind of mood his boyfriend was in before he said anything.

He sighed and slammed his laptop shut.

His phone starting ringing, its screen lit up with Brett's name. Phil slid his thumb across the screen to answer and said, "Hey, Baby."

"Hi," Brett's voice came through softly. There were bumps in the background that indicated he was getting into his car. "I got to work and they sent me home. I guess they don't need me today." He sounded a little annoyed. "So I was thinking I could swing by and pick you up and we could go out to breakfast? My treat."

_Of course it's your treat, but it's my goddamn money. _

"Sure," Phil responded, absentmindedly running his hand along the top of his laptop. He decided it wasn't a good time to ask for Brett to proofread his essay. "What time should I be ready?"

"I'll be back in about half an hour," Brett responded, and Phil knew that it was more likely twenty minutes and he'd better be ready by then. The sound of the car starting came through.

Phil started walking over to his closet to get dressed. "Alright. I'll see you then." He waited for Brett to end the call first.

"Bye," Brett said. "I love you."

"Love you too. Bye."

Phil pulled off his pajama pants and boxers and started to change into his clothes for the day. He was hoping that maybe he could have a relaxing day for once—no classes today!—when it suddenly hit him: he was supposed to work later.

"Shit!" he shouted.

Brett didn't know about Phil's job, and Phil had been extremely careful about putting his available hours as when he knew Brett would be gone. He hated to think what his boyfriend would do if he ever found out that Phil had found a source of income that Brett couldn't control.

Half dressed, Phil ran back to grab his phone and dialed the first person he thought of to help. Jenna picked up with, "Hi, Phil! How are you? I haven't talked to you in a while. I—"

"Jenna," he interrupted her then immediately felt bad. "Listen—um—can I ask you a favor? I know we don't know each other very well but…"

She laughed. "Of course you can, Phil. Shoot."

His fingers started to fumble with the shirt he'd yet to put on. "I—uh—something came up and I was wondering if you could pick up my shift today? I really can't make it, and I don't have any more sick days, and Rita"—their boss—"is gonna have my ass if I keep bailing."

"Sure." It sounded like she shrugged. "I could use a little extra pay. What are your hours?"

"Eleven to five?"

"Cool! Then I can still go to the party later! I gotta go now but I'll pick it up; don't worry!"

Phil felt his shoulders sag with relief. "Thanks."

"No prob. Bye!" Jenna hung up.

He tossed his phone onto the bed and quickly got dressed, having only ten minutes left until he guessed Brett would arrive home. He was right and he'd barely finished pulling his shoes on before the front door opened.

"Hey, Babe!" Brett's voice carried through the apartment.

Phil walked quickly out in the living room, patting his pocket to make sure he had his wallet. "Good morning," he said as he walked over to peck Brett on the cheek. "What's for breakfast?"

"I was thinking that really good diner right off campus," Brett said. He looked around the apartment, as if taking stock that Phil hadn't broken or stolen anything in his short absence, and Phil had to fight back a sigh.

They walked to the car together, where Phil was forced to wait impatiently as Brett fiddled with the radio and heater until everything was perfect before he could start driving. Always the perfectionist. Always expecting the best.

Phil sighed and leaned his head against the car window.

.~.

"Sorry I'm late!" Dan called as he grabbed his apron from its hook and started to punch in his timecard. "The bus broke down!"

His boss' voice flitted from the kitchen. "Maybe if you hard a car, we wouldn't have this problem." She walked into the back where he was; she was smiling but she did seem a bit annoyed.

"Maybe if you paid me more, I'd be able to buy one," he quipped back then slipped out before she could come up with a retort. "What section am I?" he shouted back as a last thought.

He could barely hear her response of, "B! And send you siblings to the back when they get here, I can't have them using a table if we're gonna be busy!"

"They're not coming!"

And then he was off, telling the current waiter for section B that he was here to take over and going to take orders from his first table. Only two of them were filled up for now, but he hoped more customers would come in as he really needed the tips tonight.

He was bringing out the food for table 13 when two men came in and sat down in his section. After dropping off the plates, he walked over to the table and was immediately struck with how attractive both of them were.

One was tall—really tall—with broad shoulders and a short neck. His brown hair wasn't particularly short or long. He had the kind of athletic build that Dan wasn't normally into, but he could appreciate it.

The other though. _Damn_. He was more of an average height and maybe a little too skinny. He had long, scruffy black hair that contrasted with his bright blue eyes. He was looking more at the table than Dan, who was approaching, and was probably pretty shy.

"Hi," Dan said, "My name is Dan, and I'll be your server today. Can I start you off with some drinks?"

"I'll have a Coke," the brunet responded, "and he'll have water."

Dan waited for a few seconds to see if the other man scoffed and said something like "yeah right, get me a Coke too" as sometimes playful couples did that, but he didn't say anything—so Dan nodded. "Alright, and are you ready to order or should I give you a few more minutes."

"A few more minutes." Once again, it was the brunet who answered him.

"Right. I'll be back with your drinks then." He walked away to start the drink fountain and check on his other tables. He came back and set down the two cups. "Ready to order?" he asked.

The brunet nodded. "I'll get a number five but without onions, and Phil will have the soup and salad special," he said, never glancing up to even look Dan in the eye. He was too busy looking at the other man, who Dan assumed was "Phil".

"Got it," Dan said, trying to sound cheery despite his cold customers. "We'll get those out for you as quickly as possible."

He walked over to the kitchen and stuck their ticket onto the holder. He leaned over the counter to talk to the chef, Arnold. "Feel free to spit in the number five," he said sarcastically. "We've got an orders-for-his-date on our hands."

Arnold laughed. "I'll 'accidentally' leave on the onion, that good enough?"

"It'll do," Dan sighed. "How full is the sink back there?"

"Barely."

"Good cause I've got a table to clear."

As Dan walked away, he could hear the voice of their dishwasher say, "_No_,_ please_, I just finished, give me a break." He chuckled.

He walked over to table 14 and started to stack their cups. It had been a hungry party of eight, but he figured he could handle the dishes on his own as long as he carried them in a tub. He glanced over at Phil and the brunet as he gathered the plates together. The brunet was saying something, leaning across the table far enough that Phil was obviously drawing back.

Dan scowled, but went back to doing his job. It wasn't his business whether the guy was being a dick or not, and that was something he'd had to deal with over time working at a place where couples usually went.

He gathered all the dishes into the tub and started to lug it up. He carried it carefully, taking each step slowly as he made his way to the kitchen. He'd almost made it there when he heard someone from behind him say "_Oh_!"

He'd spun around, dropped the tub, and managed to catch the person slipping behind him before even registering what was happening. He glanced down to see if any of the dishes were broken and breathed a sigh a relief.

"Thanks!" the person he'd caught said.

Dan looked at who he was holding in his arms and realized it was Phil. "No problem," he stuttered out, caught off guard with suddenly having a hot guy in his arms.

Phil struggled to regain his balance and was quickly back on his feet. He cast a quick, almost unseen glance back at his table, where the brunet was watching them, before ducking his head and rushing off to the bathroom.

Dan watched him go before slowly picking up his dishes.

He was going to do that thing where he got emotionally attached to people he barely knew. It was going to happen.

He just knew it.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Fall for Me

Part: Two

Word Count: 1,476

Warnings: Domestic violence

Disclaimer: nope.

.~.

Dan slammed the door behind him. "I'm home," he shouted. He tossed his backpack onto the shared couch and walked into the kitchen. His siblings were sitting at the table; each had a bowl of pasta in front of them. "Jenna made you dinner?" he asked, walking over to wipe some tomato sauce from Morgan's chin.

Darren shook his head. "She had to work." He shoveled a mouthful of pasta into his mouth before continuing, "So Jet said he'd make extra when he made dinner for his girlfriend and here we are. We left some in the pot for you."

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Dan went over to the stove and shoveled some of the remaining pasta into a mostly clean bowl. He made a mental note to pay Jet back.

As he sat down at the table, feeling his aching limbs slowly relax, Morgan started to chatter about her first day of school. "And my teacher has these _big_ glasses and she looks like a bug, and I made a friend. Her name is Britney, and she's super nice, and she shared her lunch with me today."

Dan set down his fork and put his face in his hands. "That's what I was forgetting to do," he moaned. "Remind me tomorrow morning to make you guys lunches, okay?"

Darrel looked at him for a long moment, one eyebrow raised, then went back to eating his dinner.

"It's okay though cause Britney had goldfish crackers and we threw them up in the air and caught them in our mouths so I'm glad I didn't have a lunch." Morgan smiled at him, displaying her missing two teeth, and Dan was struck with just how adorable and innocent she was. "Also, she let me have some of her apple juice."

Dan smiled. "That's good, Morgan." He finished the pasta quickly and stood to take the bowl to the sink. "I've got homework to do. Put your dishes in the sink when you're done and make sure to thank Jet."

"It's the first day of classes," Darren protested, stuffing more pasta into his mouth as he spoke.

"College isn't as easy as middle school, little brother," Dan responded. He went to the bedroom they all shared and curled up in his bed with his assigned reading.

He was having a difficult time focusing though, and all he could really think about was the day. It had been a stressful one: getting his siblings to school, starting his first classes, and he couldn't get that couple from work out of his mind.

He wasn't sure why he was so invested in this one couple. He saw dickhead boyfriends at work all the time—it was a popular date site—and normally he just sighed and reminded himself it wasn't his business. It was just something about that boy—Phil, he reminded himself—that Dan couldn't push out of his mind.

"Get it together," he muttered to himself, pulling his book closer to himself as if that would make him focus better.

He'd only read one—very wordy, boring—paragraph before Darren burst in and flung himself down on the bottom of the bunk bed.

"Move before Morgan comes in and yells at you for being in her bed," Dan said without looking up. He reached to his nightstand to grab a highlighter.

Sure enough, their sister came skipping in but stopped immediately. "Get off my princess sheets!" she screeched, lunging at Darren.

Instinct made Dan drop his highlighter and grab Morgan to pull her to his chest. "What have I told you about attacking Darren? I know you're young but I can't tolerate your temper tantrums, okay?" he said. He glanced over to make sure he hadn't gotten ink on his sheets when he dropped his highlighter.

"Brat," Darren muttered. He climbed the ladder on the bed to get to his bunk and flopped back.

Morgan made a face at him.

"Guys," Dan pleaded, "I really need to get some work done and I can't with you guys bickering like this." He wiped his hair from his eyes and tried to remember what line in the book he'd intended to highlight.

Darren sighed. He looked like he was going to protest for a moment, but then he craned his head over the side of the bunk to look at Morgan. "I'll let you choose a movie to watch if you go set up the DVD player," he said. Morgan immediately perked up and dashed into the living room.

"Thank you," Dan sighed.

"Yeah whatever—do your stupid studying," Darren grumbled, trying to look nonchalant.

Dan tried to focus on his work, but now all he could think about the siblings he could barely control or even take care of. He was just glad he didn't have any classes tomorrow and maybe he could sneak in some studying before they got back from school.

.~.

Phil tried to ignore how obviously angry Brett was for the rest of their meal. He picked at the salad in front of him, putting maybe a little too much effort into looking inconspicuous as he ate.

He knew, realistically, that Brett probably wasn't extremely angry, more annoyed, but Phil was so used to guarding himself when he did something to piss of Brett that he couldn't help but be tense. He hadn't _meant_ to slip right behind that cute waiter. Though he had slipped because he stared at Dan a little too long—but he had checked to make sure Brett didn't see him doing that.

When Dan came by to drop off the tip, Brett stared him down, but the waiter didn't seem to notice; in fact, he seemed to be aggressively avoiding looking at Brett at all.

When they finally left, Brett didn't speak a single word the entire way home. It wasn't until they had walked into the bedroom that he finally said, "You _just had_ to enjoy that so fucking much, didn't you?"

"Huh?" Phil pulled his empty wallet out of his pocket and flung it onto their dresser. He tried to act innocent; he had his first day of back to classes tomorrow and he really didn't want to be in a bad mood from a fight.

Brett threw his hands up exasperatedly. "You were practically swooning in that guy's arms," he accused, and Phil took a step back on instinct.

"I was not," Phil answered. He started walking toward their en suite bathroom to brush his teeth. "You're doing that jealousy thing again."

He hadn't even realized Brett was near him until one hand latched onto his wrist and the other grabbed his shoulder to spin him around. Phil found himself nose to nose with Brett. He gulped.

This argument could go down one of two ways. They could either shout at each other until they were hoarse, which didn't seem to be the route it was taking, or Brett would hit the end of his temper and get violent before Phil even understood what was going on.

Brett put his index finger up, wagging it near Phil's eyes. "Maybe I need to be jealous," he said, "because you can't keep from throwing yourself at every guy who looks at you."

"I _slipped_," Phil defended himself.

The slap came so quickly that Phil hadn't even realized Brett's hand had moved. Phil stumbled but caught his balance by gripping the edge of their dresser. He shook his head lightly to try to get his senses back, but Brett was already in front of him again, gripping the front of his shirt.

Phil craned his neck back to keep from his face touching Brett's.

"You think you're so sneaky and you've got me fooled into thinking you're so sweet and innocent—but you're note and you haven't, you piece of shit," Brett growled. He tightened his hold, forcing Phil to move toward him slightly.

Phil closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. "Brett…" A slap, lighter this time than before, forced him to clamp his eyes shut again.

"You shut the fuck up. If you weren't such a slut, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Brett let go of him and started to walk toward the closet. As he pulled out a pair of pajama pants, he looked over at saw that Phil was still standing by the dresser, tense and expecting more. "Well," he said, sounding more annoyed then angry now, "are you gonna move or just stand there like you've been traumatized?"

Phil licked his lips and shook himself a little bit. He walked toward the bathroom, and just as he was closing the door, he heard Brett say, "And you can sleep on the goddamned couch tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Fall for Me

Part: Three

Word Count: 1,447

Warnings: Domestic violence

Disclaimer: nope.

.~.

"If you aren't out of this bed by the time I count to three, I'm pulling you out of it," Dan threatened. He was just tall enough to look over the edge of his brother's bunk. "I'm serious."

Darren waved a hand, keeping his face pressed down into the pillow. "I'll get up eventually," he grumbled.

"_Now_," Dan growled. He stepped away long enough to grab a pillow from Morgan's bunk. He smacked the pillow on Darren's head. "Up."

Darren flipped over onto his back and glared at Dan. "_Ugh_." He scooted over to the ladder then slowly climbed down. He gave Dan one last dirty look before stumbling to the bathroom.

Dan rolled his eyes. He then crouched down and set his hand on Morgan's shoulder. He shook her lightly as he said, "Up and at 'em, sunshine." His sister let out a sound to indicate she was awake, and Dan trusted her to get up on her own, so he went to getting himself ready.

He had to work at his second job today, and he didn't have class, so he pulled out his uniform. He worked restocking shelves and working the cash register at the college bookstore. The uniform was uncomfortable: a starchy polo with the college logo and pressed pants, but he dealt with it.

Once he was dressed, Dan walked into the bathroom. He didn't bother knocking, and Darren shouted _oi!_ from the toilet, but he just walked to the sink and started brushing his teeth. "I'm gonna be home in time for dinner tonight," he told his brother between brushes. "So what should I make?"

Darren shrugged. He stood and pulled up his pants. "You have no sense of privacy, ya know."

"I'm on a tight schedule; sue me." Dan rinsed off his tooth brush then rinsed his mouth. "I was thinking we could just order a pizza if you're done for it."

"_Yeah_," Darren answered. He shoved Dan out of the way so he could wash his hands.

Dan walked back out to the bedroom, where Morgan was starting to pull on a pink skirt. She grinned at him, proud that she'd made her own coordinated outfit, and then skipped to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

After grabbing his wallet from the nightstand, and running his fingers through his hair—he never had time to straighten it anymore—he went to poke his head back into the bathroom. "You guys good to get to the bus on your own?" he asked.

Morgan nodded enthusiastically, and Darren said, "I'll make sure she gets to her stop; don't worry your frazzled little head."

Dan didn't even bother to respond to the quip before he was out the door. Paying bus fare wasn't worth the short distance to campus, so he walked there quickly and got to work just in time.

"Good morning!" he shouted to his coworkers, who were all grumpily preparing to open.

They grumbled their responses. They'd all worked there for quite a while and were disenchanted with the early mornings and busy days; it was pretty obvious they were waiting for Dan—who'd been working there for a total of a week—to lose his enthusiasm as well.

In all honesty, Dan had stopped being excited about any form of work a long time ago. Even before his parents died in a car crash, they'd had money problems. Dan had started working quite young to help them out. And now that he _really_ had to work, he forced himself to be positive; otherwise, he'd end up bitter and tired and unhappy all the time—no way to be around two kids he was raising.

This was the first time Dan had worked the morning shift, so he didn't recognize a few of the faces around him, but he knew introducing himself to people so obviously in foul moods wasn't a good idea.

He walked to the back of the shop, where all the boxes of inventory were, and started stacking them methodically on a dolly. He started setting up displays at the front of the store.

The store opened soon after, and people started flooding in to buy their books for the semester.

Dan could tell already it was going to be a long day.

.~.

The first thing Phil registered when he woke up was the sound of the coffee maker dripping. He groaned and rolled over as much as the thin couch would allow, rubbing his face, before he slowly crawled from the couch.

His back and neck ached. The couch was old, a lumpy thing they'd taken of Brett's parents' hands when they didn't want it anymore; it was definitely not meant to be slept on.

The radio in the kitchen turned on, blaring the classic rock that Brett so loved. A few moments later, Phil could hear his boyfriend singing along.

He walked slowly to the kitchen. There was a pretty high chance Brett would still be mad at him, but the singing usually indicated a cheery mood, so Phil was cautiously hopeful.

"Good morning," he said quietly from the doorway. He tried not to wring his hands in each other.

Brett turned abruptly toward him. He was wearing only his boxers and holding a spatula. "Good morning!" he responded, grinning.

Phil smiled and walked farther into the room. "Someone's in a good mood this morning," he noted. He settled into a chair at the kitchen table and watched as Brett flipped something on the stove. "How did you sleep?" he asked.

"Terribly," Brett answered. He turned away from whatever he was cooking and said, "The bed felt so empty without you there." He set the spatula down on the counter so he could walk over and lace his arms over the back of Phil's shoulders. "I'm sorry about last night. It's just… you know how jealous I get. I'm so terrified of losing you."

"I know," Phil whispered. He couldn't help but tense up with Brett draped over him like this. He turned his head slightly so he could meet his boyfriend's gaze. "It's okay. I get it."

How many times had he said that? Every single time, Brett lost it, he would just apologize the next morning; and Phil _always_ forgave him. Phil was starting to hate himself for it—because seriously, how weak did he have to be to always forgive someone who consistently beat the shit out of him?

Brett smiled. He pulled away quickly and said, "I made you breakfast." He walked over to the stove, flipped something onto a plate with the spatula, and brought the plate back to the table.

"Thank you," Phil mumbled as he stared down at the plate of pancakes. He tried to force a reassuring smile. "It looks great."

Brett sat down next to Phil at the table. He didn't have any food for himself, but he seemed content to just watch as Phil picked up his silverware and started to cut into his pancakes. After a few moments of staring, he stood up.

Phil tensed and looked up at him.

"I should get to work," Brett said. He leaned down and pecked a kiss on Phil's forehead. "Wanna have a date night tonight? I get home around five; we could go see a movie or something and get dinner."

Phil tried to smile. "Sounds good," he responded quietly.

He had to work today, but he had the morning shift, so he should be able to get back before Brett did. Either way, he would have to take the risk; he couldn't afford to miss work when he already had yesterday.

When Brett had finally left for work, Phil got ready hurriedly then made his way to campus. He was nearly late but slipped in the door right on time.

"Good morning," he muttered to the girl working the front register then made his way to his register. The store had already opened, so he got people to check out almost immediately. It was easy to get lost in the mindless work; Phil managed to forget about the night before quickly as he chatted with customers and packed bags.

When his break came, he walked to the back of the store to use the bathroom. He'd needed to go for a while, and it was getting difficult to hold it, so he had to hustle a bit. He wasn't really looking where he was going.

He'd made it nearly to the bathroom when he ran smack into something and fell to the ground. When he looked up slowly he faced he last person he expected to see here: the waiter from last night.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Fall for Me

Part: Four

Word Count: 1,008

Warnings: Domestic violence

Disclaimer: nope.

Author's Note: yay for back story

.~.

Sometimes Dan thinks back to when his parents where alive and gets jealous of his past self. He used to think he had it so hard, like being poor was the only problem a person could have. He used to get angry when he was the only one of his friends who didn't get a car for their sixteenth birthday, who couldn't afford a tux for prom, who didn't frequent country clubs over the summer.

But then he'd go home. And the house would he kind of cold, but they'd all be snuggled up on the couch with blankets, eating whatever dinner Mom had cooked up. And they would watch some stupid show the little kids wanted to watch before they went to bed.

And when his siblings were asleep, Dan and his parents would watch a movie or play a game or just sit and talk. And he knew that his parents loved him, and he loved them.

And looking back, Dan should've known that little kiss his mom gave him on the top of his head every night was so much more valuable than a sports car.

He'd been eighteen for only four months when they died. He got the phone call at work.

"Is this Daniel Howell?" the man on the phone asked.

"Yes?" Dan responded, trying to figure out if he knew that voice.

The man took a deep breath. "I'm afraid there's been an accident." He then went on to explain how a big-rig driver had fallen asleep, had allowed his truck to cause a collision killing four people. He told Dan how his father had died on the spot and his mother made it to the hospital but died there.

And the only thought filling Dan's mind was Why Why Why? Why did it have to happen to them? Why now? Why?

One of his coworkers found him sobbing on the floor of the break room. It took a while, but she managed to calm him down long enough to get him coherent.

He took the rest of the day off and retrieved his siblings from their schools. "Why are *you* pulling us out?" they'd both asked, but he couldn't bring himself to tell them for nearly four hours, when they had asked "Where are Mom and Dad?" enough times that he started to cry again.

The lawyer that he visited the next day said Dan was legally allowed to take his siblings if he wanted. "But I don't advise it. You're quite young," he'd added. "Do you have any relatives who could take guardianship?"

Dan shook his head, feelings an overwhelming sense of numbness blanket him. "No one."

"Well there is always foster care..." The lawyer had looked down at the papers in front of paper and picked up a pen, like the decision had already been made.

No. Dan had heard horror stories, plenty of them, about what happened to kids in the system. He slammed his hand over the papers. "I can take them. They're my siblings; I know how to raise them."

The lawyer had look over his glasses at him with cold eyes. After a moment, he sighed and said, "Of course. Do you have employment?"

Dan thought of his minimum wage job at the movie theater. He nodded.

"Then you are the only eligible blood relative then..." The man looked reluctant, but he slid a paper across the table to Dan. "Sign here."

.~.

Phil honestly doesn't remember his father all that well. He thinks that Dad had smelled like tobacco, but he could have just made that up. Phil does know that he'd had a scratchy, grey beard though, and his hugs were tight and comforting.

He died when Phil was quite young though. Heart attack.

Phil's mother had been quite a bit younger than her husband. Phil remembers more about her than his dad of course, since he'd already been fifteen by the time she died.

Her nails were long, and scratchy, and sometimes she gripped his arm to hard and left red marks. Her hair was soft looking, but Phil touched it once and it was crunchy. And she was short enough that Phil passed up her height when he was twelve.

Mom remarried twice after Dad. The first one was, Jerry, a mechanic who spoke and smelled a lot like Dad. He read Phil bedtime stories even after Phil insisted that nine years old was too old for that. Jerry would just chuckle and say, "Nobody's too old for a good story." He found out Mom had been cheating on him and left when Phil was eleven.

The second was a wiry teacher, Mark, who sneered whenever Phil talked and generally ignored his stepson if he wasn't shoving him out of a room. He seemed to have a grudge that Phil couldn't remember causing, and Phil got pretty good at dodging the occasional heavy hand by the time Mark ran off with his eighteen-year-old student (who Phil had math class with. Awkward.).

Mom didn't remarry after that. She drowned herself in booze, essentially forgetting she had a son. Eventually she drank herself to death and Phil got shipped off to his aunt's house.

Aunty Martha *doted* on him. She insisted he was too skinny and gave him third helpings at every meal; she bought him clothes simply because she felt like it; and she planned for his birthday months in advance.

Phil, who'd always wanted for the kind of affection the kids at school got, was surprised to find that he hated it. Martha was nice and all, but he'd gotten used to taking care of himself to the point that someone else taking care of him was just uncomfortable.

He knows it must've broken her heart when he moved out very soon after his eighteenth birthday, but he could finally touch all the money his mom left behind-of which there was _a lot_ more left than he'd thought-and he was itching to get away from all the unfamiliar love.


End file.
